


Between the Suffering and the Will

by littlehollyleaf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s04e20 The Rapture, Gen, What-if Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-16
Updated: 2009-09-16
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf/pseuds/littlehollyleaf
Summary: Originally publishedherefor a 'what if' challenge over atspnland.What if Jimmyhadknown about Castiel's message for Dean in 'The Rapture'...?





	Between the Suffering and the Will

**Between the Suffering and the Will  
\- or The Supernatural Prometheus**

> Titan! to thee the strife was given  
>  Between the suffering and the will,  
>  Which torture where they cannot kill;  
>  [...] Thy godlike crime was to be kind,  
>  To render with thy precepts less  
>  The sum of human wretchedness,  
>  And strengthen man with his own mind.  
>  **~ Prometheus, Lord Byron.**

  
It took a lot to faze Dean Winchester, especially were food was concerned. But watching the man who had been defined for going on a year now by his stoicism, lack of expression and the fact he didn't need to eat or drink, swallow down his third burger in twenty minutes (with accompanying noises any porn star would have been proud of) apparently crossed a line.

"Mind slowing down? You're gonna give me angina," Dean muttered.

"I'm hungry," the man, so far only identified as 'Jimmy,' shrugged back, taking a long slurp of Coca-Cola through the plastic straw of one of the local diner's take out cups.

"When's the last time you ate?" Sam questioned across the motel's circular table.

"I don't know. Months," Jimmy answered around his straw, before turning back to the remainder of his burger.

Dean felt a pang of sympathy for the guy, remembering his own ravenous hunger after Zechariah lifted that stupid mindwipe he'd put him and Sam under a couple of weeks ago. Sam, on the other hand, pressed on with the questioning, leaning forward slightly with his hands clasped in front of him. Dean thought the position made him look unpleasantly like an interrogator.

"What the hell happened back there? It looked like an angel battle royale."

Much as Dean hated to interrupt the guy in his obviously very personal quest to consume at least half the fast food in the state, an answer to this question was already overdue. It'd been over five hours since Castiel delivered his cryptic 'we need to talk' during one of Dean's late morning naps, with three needed to get to where he'd said to meet and another two calming Jimmy down and getting them all food and a place to stay. Cas had seemed genuinely freaked out in Dean's dream too, which was enough in itself to prove whatever he had to say was important, but now the angel was gone, leaving a smashed up warehouse with angelic symbols on the walls in his wake? Whatever the hell was going on, Dean felt pretty safe in thinking it _big_.

Jimmy swallowed and shook his head, although his eyes fell to the table in a way years of hunting experience identified at once as shifty.

"All I remember is... there was a flash of light, and when I woke up I was, you know, me again."

"So, what?" Dean pressed. "Cas just, ditched outta your meatsuit?"

Jimmy dropped the rest of his burger into one of the open plastic wrappers on the table and looked away.

"I don't know," he answered. Much too quickly.

Sam and Dean shared a frown.

"Do you remember anything about being possessed? Anything at all?" Sam asked, not _quite_ leaving the bounds of friendly inquiry, although the hint of impatience behind the words suggested he was well on the way.  
  
Jimmy picked up a napkin and started wiping his hands with it.

"Bits and pieces," he shrugged. "I mean... angel inside you, it's kinda like being chained to a comet."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Wow, that doesn't sound like much fun."

Jimmy glanced over long enough to shoot him a wry smile.

"Understatement," he said, before lowering his gaze to the scrunched up paper in his hands.

"Cas said he wanted to tell us something," Sam cut into the following silence. "Please tell me you remember that."

This time it was obvious the other man was holding back. He licked and pursed his lips a couple of times before shaking his head, eyes still downcast.

"Listen," Sam started, voice dropping an octave, turning harder. "I don't know how much you know, but what we're part of right now is _serious_. As in, 'fate of the world' serious. If you know any-"

Jimmy jerked his head up suddenly, cutting Sam off.

"Are we gonna stay here long?" he asked, voice rising a little, a touch of panic around the edges. "I mean... isn't there anywhere else... anywhere else you'd rather be?"

He glanced back at Dean, eyes flashing a silent message and Dean recognised the look. Cas had moulded that face into the exact same one by the lake the hunter had dreamt about fishing in earlier.

_:: it's not safe here... someone might be listening ::_

"Yeah..." Dean answered slowly, while Sam turned to him in surprise. "Yeah, actually we were planning to head back to a friend's house tomorrow. It's kinda cramped, but it's cosy." He held the other man's gaze for a second, wondering if this cryptic shit he was trying was actually getting through or just going over the other guy's head. "He's got an extra room in the basement."

Jimmy's eyes lit up and Dean figured that meant he recognised the description of Bobby's then. He wondered what else the guy might know about them. Weird, that this man should be such an integral part of their lives, of what he and Sam had been doing this year, and yet be a complete stranger at the same time.

"Sounds nice," Jimmy nodded, still sounding a bit strained. "You... err... you think maybe I could crash for a couple of days? Just to... you know...?"

"Recover," Dean provided when Jimmy trailed off. "Sure. You've been riding a comet for almost a year, you _definitely_ need some R and R. Of course you can hang with us for a while."

Jimmy breathed out slowly and nodded.

"Thanks."

***

It was a tense drive down to South Dakota the next morning, with Jimmy making fertive glances out the window every other second and Dean forgoing music in case it drowned out vital warning sounds of an angel ambush. Not to mention the inexplicably frantic tapping of Sam's fingers against the dashboard - what was _with_ that kid lately? So it was no surprise, really, with everyone as keyed-up as they were and practically suffocated by the silence, that Dean almost drove them off the road when Anna appeared without warning behind Sam with a sudden, "hey guys."

"Smooth," the (formerly) fallen angel noted once Dean steered them back on track.

"You ever tried calling ahead?" Dean muttered, breath still ragged with shock.

"I like the element of surprise," Anna quiped, though she sounded like she was joking more because it was expected than because she had any desire to.

Dean twisted to look over his seat and took in the angel's appearance for the first time. Her skin was pale, much more than when she'd been human and, even more telling perhaps, much more than any other angel he'd come across. Meanwhile, her flaming red hair, so smooth and straight when they'd first met, was now limp and untended, loose strands sticking out at odd angles, like she'd just spent the last two hours running for her life. Then again, that might actually be true, she _was_ still on Heaven's Most Wanted list.

"Woah, you look terrific," the hunter mocked as he turned back to the road, still slightly pissed at the skid and wanting revenge.

"Thanks," Anna responded, equally sarcastic. "When you're on the run, appearance is the least of your worries, you know?" She turned her head. "You're Jimmy, right?"

Jimmy sat up straighter in his seat, eyeing her wearily.

"Yeah..."

Anna nodded, eyes sweeping up and down him.

"It's good that you're here. Don't go anywhere, it's not safe."

"Wasn't planning on it," he answered.

"Castiel... did he tell you anything?" she pressed. Jimmy lowered his gaze.

"Um..."

"Nope," Sam called, twisting round. "We don't know anything."

Anna fixed on Jimmy a moment longer, then gave a slow nod, clueing in. She turned to Sam, mouth open to reply, but stopped once her eyes found him and blinked her head back. After a second she leant forward again, eyes narrowing.

"Sam... you seem... different."

Sam pulled back himself in surprise.

"Me?" he shrugged. "I dunno, haircut?"

But Anna shook her head.

"That's not what I'm talking about," she said, and her voice was so sombre all of a sudden that both Dean and Jimmy fixed their gaze on the other man, a couple of small, anxious lines forming between Dean's eyes.

And for a second, Sam looked worried, an old darkness covering his usually bright hazel eyes that Dean could have sworn he recognised as guilt. But then the younger man was shrugging the moment away, bemused and smiling and Anna dropped the matter with a shake of her head.

"So. Where are you heading?" she asked Dean.

"Bobby's," Dean answered, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

"Good idea."

"What's going on, Anna?" the hunter asked, feeling bolder now they had an angel of their own in the car.

Anna glanced at Jimmy.

"Just get to Bobby's, I'll meet you there."  
  
The silence was even more oppressive after she left.

***

They didn't even need to explain once they got to the salvage yard. Bobby opened the door before Sam finished his first knock, nodded like he'd been expecting them, and said, "come on, panic room's ready."

Anna was leaning against the room's open door as they paced downstairs, which explained away Bobby's newfound psychic ability reasonably enough (something Dean was quietly relieved about - having one member of the family with powers was enough, thank you). The angel stayed hovering in the doorway while the four of them traipsed inside and a quick look at the walls was enough to explain why - Bobby had managed to find specs for the angel-proofing symbols Alistair had used during his attempt to kill those two Reapers in Greybull and painted a whole load of them across the circular wall. And without Sam or Dean even needing to ask either. Dean didn't think he'd ever have enough gratitude for that man.

"Right," Bobby started from his position in the centre of the room, pushing his trademark trucker's hat slightly higher up his head so he could see everyone better. The others edged against the wall in front of him, Sam and Dean pulling up a couple of metallic chairs, while Jimmy opted to stand, arms gripping the trench coat he'd long since removed to his chest. "One of you better start talking."

The brothers both turned to Jimmy.

The other man nodded and took a breath, only to turn to Anna at the last minute.

"This is safe, right?"

"As safe as you'll get," the angel answered.

"But they can't hear? With the door open?"

"Not unless they came here in person, and we've given them no reason to."

"Who's they?" Sam asked, impatient again. "What's this all about?"

"And where the fuck is Castiel?" Dean added, a little harsher than intended, but he couldn't seem to help it. At some point between checking out of the motel that morning and the drive down, this had become the one question, above all others, that mattered the most. And every second that went by without an answer was making the hunter's blood pressure that little bit higher.

"He got called back," Jimmy answered, meeting Dean's gaze; eyes fearful, body tense.

"Back _where?_ " Dean pressed, too far past his capacity for patience to care if he was freaking out a civilian.

"Back home," Anna clarified. "Although it was more like dragged back."

"Home?" Bobby repeated. "As in... Heaven?"

Anna and Jimmy nodded together.

"And that's... not a good thing?" Sam ventured.

"No," Anna said forcefully. "It's a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad." She turned her head to Jimmy. "He must have seriously pissed someone off."

Jimmy took another breath and dropped his gaze to the coat in his hands.

"Not exactly..."

He paused to smooth out some of the creases in the tan fabric, psyching himself up.

"Then _what_ exactly?!" Dean exploded.

"I'm sorry!" Jimmy all but yelped in response. "I just..." He pressed his eyelids down briefly. "I didn't sign up for this, you know?" His eyes were shining as he glanced round at the others and Dean took a moment to note how freaking _weird_ it was seeing eyes that had always been so piercing and collected now on the verge of tears. "And I gave Castiel everything. Everything I had. I left my _family_. And for what? For _this?_ It's just... it's hard to get my head around."

At the word 'family,' Dean was instantly abashed. This was just an ordinary guy who'd been thrown into a fucked up situation; he shouldn't be trying to shoot the messenger.

"Well, hey, I know you've had a rough time of it," the hunter started, lowering his voice in apology. "But you know, we _are_ trying to save the world. That's not _such_ a terrible thing to be part of."

Jimmy just stared at him, and the misery lining his face turned Dean's blood cold. Because he recognised it. It was the same kind he'd known himself that night in South Dakota when Bobby got back from chasing Jake, and he had to realise all over again that Sam really wasn't leaving his arms alive.

"No you're not," Jimmy whispered.

The guy might as well have been talking Klingon for all the sense those words made to the others.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The angels were never..." Jimmy started, words tumbling out of him in disjointed gasps, as though the whole thing were too painful to lay out all at once. "Protecting the seals, stopping Lilith... it's all a sham... they don't..."

"They don't want to stop Lucifer," Sam finished, reading between the lines and piecing together what Jimmy wasn't saying. "They want the seals broken. They want him to get out." His lips parted in horror once he was done, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just been using them for.

Jimmy's silence was proof enough.

"But... but that don't make sense," Bobby argued. "Why would Heaven wanna let out the Devil?"

A gasp from the doorway turned everyone's gaze to Anna. The angel had a hand to her mouth, eyes staring into nothing, and looked, if it were possible, even paler than back in the Impala. In fact, if Dean hadn't known better, he'd have thought she was some kind of unquiet spirit.

"They plan to finish the war," she breathed. "They want Lucifer free so they can fight him again. To the death this time."

"...oh," Dean said. "Oh, well..." He took in Anna and Jimmy's still sombre expressions. "That's... still bad, isn't it?"

Anna's lips curved in a humourless smile.

"I suppose it depends on your perspective," she answered. "With Lucifer dead there will be no Hell. The battle will be... terrible. And Earth will be the battlefield. It could destroy half the world, easy." She waved a hand. "But those who survive will live out their days in paradise... assuming we win, of course."

It was as if all the air in the world had been sucked away, all at once. No one moved. No one breathed. Then the Winchesters and Bobby turned their heads to each other, equally dumbstruck.

***

It was gone midnight when Sam snuck out into the salvage yard later that night. Not that anyone was sleeping. They'd spent most of the evening shaking their heads and downing Bobby's stock of whiskey and gin. From the look on Jimmy's face when he took his first mouthful it was clear he'd never touched hard liquor before in his life, but he was knocking it back like water in less than an hour. Him and Dean built up a friendly enough rapport after that, while Bobby buried himself in the library with Anna, looking for anything they could use against angels that might help them stop Heaven's plan and speed up the fight against Hell's.

But Sam had other things on his mind.

He paced deep into the mountains of rusting cars and motor parts until he found the shell of an ancient blue Mustang.

He turned a full circle. Nothing.

A harsh, impatient sigh escaped him before he even knew it was coming and he started tapping his palms against his thighs.

"You look like shit."

He whirled round in time to catch a dark, feminine shadow stepping out from behind a half crushed Land Rover.

"It's been two weeks Ruby and I'm all out," Sam spat back. "I feel like shit too."

"Don't worry," Ruby smirked, slinking closer. "I got your pick me up right here..."

She slipped her arms about his neck, moonlight painting intricate patterns on the exposed skin below her Tee. Sam ignored the play at seduction and gripped her tight below the elbows, pushing her back.

"You think this is funny?" he growled. "Like what we're doing is some kind of joke? Just something to pass the time? This is _important_ Ruby. Maybe now more than ever."

Ruby blinked, smile dropping away. She jerked out of Sam's hold and held her hands up, palms out, in apology.

"Jesus. Okay, okay..."

She bent down and pulled a slim, silver knife from her right boot, slicing a red and dripping gash across her wrist before she'd even finished straightening up.

"Here."

Sam pulled the arm to his lips without even looking at her, breathing out deeply in relief as he sucked the viscous liquid over his tongue.

Ruby pet his hair as Sam drank his fill.

"Wow, I know it's been a while, but you're not usually so gung-ho about this," she stated as he finished. "What's got you so worked up?"

Sam pulled away slowly, licking his lips. His hold on the demon's arm was softer now, eyes sheepish as he drew them down to hers.

"Sorry," he muttered as he let her go, hands hovering around the already healing cut as through to offer some kind of comfort.

Eventually, he decided it was best to just stick his hands in his pockets and out of the way. Ruby dropped hers and hooked a thumb through the loop in her jeans, eyebrows raised at Sam expectantly. He shrugged, a more weary and deliberate sigh leaving him this time.

"We just got thrown a pretty big curveball today and... err... I guess it's getting to me."

"What happened?" Ruby asked, dark eyes creasing at the corners in what Sam had come to accept as concern.

He hesitated to answer though, because they'd decided early on that keeping quiet about Heaven's masterplan and what they knew of it was probably for the best. No matter how trustworthy you held your confident, you never knew who was listening in. Castiel was a testament to that. Maybe later, if he could get Ruby in a safe place, he'd tell her the full story. For now, he opted for the abridged version.

"Castiel got, ah, relocated or something, and left his vessel behind," he explained. "Guy named Jimmy Novak. He's got a family back in Illinois, can you believe that?" Sam shook his head. "I mean, I get that _demons_ would break up homes to get a host." He glanced back to Ruby and gave a flat smile. "No offence," he added, but Ruby just waved the aspersion away. "But... I guess I thought angels would be more honourable about it, you know? Cas told us the guy prayed to be a vessel, but from the way Jimmy tells it, he didn't know what he was getting into, not really..."

He trailed off and turned away, staring into the night. Even though Bobby's was a good few miles from town, there was still enough light pollution to blot out most of the stars. It had always been like that, of course, even when Sam visited as a kid, but in that moment he found it hard not to take the fact as some kind of metaphor for the more immediate state of his life. No matter how hard he tried, all you could see was darkness.

After a while he felt a hand on his arm. And although he knew, logically, that the blood inside was only pumping because of the demonic energy keeping the heart beating, knew that the warmth from it was simply an illusion, the fact that it _felt_ real was somehow reassuring. Better an illusion than nothing at all.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Ruby said quietly. "You really can't trust anyone these days."

***

Dean found Jimmy perched on the couch in the library the next morning, an out of date Blackberry in his hands with a wire trailing from the end to a socket in the wall near by. He noticed the wire from a lamp on a small table to the right had been removed for the purpose. Castiel's, no _Jimmy's_ , trenchcoat had been draped across the sofa's back, along with the navy-coloured tie, leaving Jimmy in white shirtsleeves, rolled up to his elbows, with his top two buttons undone.

Dean moved up behind him and saw Jimmy had a picture up on the screen. A smiling woman with long blonde hair had her arms wrapped proudly round a young girl. The matching hair colour and dimples round the kid's grin made it clear the two were related.

"That your family?" Dean asked softly.

Jimmy started a little and turned his head, but relaxed once he saw it was Dean.

"Yeah," he nodded, turning back, and Dean chose to ignore the way he rubbed a hand across his eyes, and how said eyes were quite blatantly red and puffy with past tears. Jimmy sniffed then raised a hand, pointing to the woman. "That's Amelia." He lowered his finger. "And my daughter, Claire... she turned thirteen last month... I missed it..."

He sucked in a breath and pressed his lips together. Dean didn't push for more, just nodded and said 'she's beautiful.'

Jimmy nodded back rather too much, then breathed out a laugh.

"It's a wonder this thing's even still working," he said, waving the Blackberry in front of himself. "It's been in my coat pocket this whole time. I guess he thought it was part of the outfit and made sure it didn't get broken. Battery ran out months ago of course, but your friend Bobby had a spare charger..."

He trailed off, head bowed, and Dean had a sudden urge to grip the guy's shoulder, offer some support, or at the very least prove to Jimmy he wasn't alone in this mess. But he didn't dare. Despite having spent a great deal of time with him over the past year, Dean didn't _know_ this man, they weren't _friends_. So he compromised and gripped the back of the sofa just behind Jimmy instead.

"He didn't know... you know," Jimmy said a little later, once the silence had drifted into something almost companionable. "Castiel."

Dean blinked and decided not to bother pretending this piece of information didn't matter to him.

"Yeah?" he pressed.

"Not at first," Jimmy continued, lifting his head to stare at the bookcase opposite. "I think... I dunno, he was pretty low on the chain of command or something and they just didn't tell him the whole plan. But, after Uriel, he started asking questions. Overhearing things, and..." He shrugged and Dean nodded gently behind him. "He came to you as soon as he found out."

"But even that wasn't fast enough," Dean added, voice dull. "Do you...? Do you have any idea what they'll do to him?"

Jimmy shook his head and looked down. The Blackberry's screensaver had switched on, covering Amelia and Claire's picture in inky black.

"He knew... I think," he offered. "But it's not as if we had actual conversations. More like, information just kind of... bled out between us." He twisted round and looked at Dean properly for the first time. Eyes awash with sympathy, though who for exactly Dean couldn't say. They seemed watered and flat compared to when Castiel had been looking through them. "I know he was afraid. When he came to you. I felt that much. But when I tried to find out why he just cut me off, completely. It was like he'd slammed a door in my face and locked it. Like he wanted to protect me from whatever was inside."

Dean swallowed, thinking of Alistair and the way he'd juggled blades between his hands before each session. He wondered if Heaven had a torture master too. The way things were going it seemed anything was possible. And if those wings were as big the shadow of them Cas had revealed back in that barn it'd take a hell of a lot of clamps to hold them down... assuming they planned to keep them attached...

It was a blessing for Dean when Jimmy's phone started to ring and distracted his thoughts. One that soon faded when they both turned to the thing in surprise and read the words 'Amelia calling' across the screen.

They'd agreed the night before it would be best if Jimmy didn't contact his family. Now they knew Heaven and Hell were _both_ against them it was just too much of a risk making either side aware of who Jimmy was contacting and why. Any self-respecting demon would be itching to get their hands on an angel's vessel, of course, to find out how they tick, and most certainly wouldn't baulk at threatening anyone close to said vessel to do it. But while Jimmy had made it more than clear, after a few shots of Bobby's finest, that he'd have been willing to risk the wrath of demons for the chance of seeing his wife and daughter again, he'd admitted he was terrified of dragging either of them into the same hell Heaven had put him through. So he'd agreed to stay away to make sure the other angels didn't try and use his family to establish the extent of his knowledge. This way, if the angels _did_ come to suspect him of knowing too much, they already knew Jimmy was with the Winchesters and could come to him directly.

But faced with his wife calling _him_ , what could Jimmy do but answer?

And Dean knew from the first tentative 'Amelia?' and the breathy 'Oh my god' that followed a few minutes later, this couldn't lead to anything good.

***

Amelia was hysterical over the phone, claiming some neighbours had tried to attack their house and that she and Claire barely got away. She'd thought about calling the police but thought they might think she was crazy because she could have sworn the neighbour's eyes were pitch black as they attacked. So, in her panicked state she'd called Jimmy, not really expecting an answer.

Yes, it seemed a bit suspiciously convenient all this should have happened the day after Jimmy got laid off his vessel gig, but the brothers had no reason _not_ to take it at face value. No one knew what Jimmy was but them, after all, so they didn't see how it could be a trap.

Not that they were surprised when it was.

When they got to the abandoned factory Amelia had given as the place she and Claire were hiding out, it turned out the wife was possessed. With several black-eyed flunkies (presumably the neighbours) in tow and the kid tied up and unconscious on a chair behind them.

Sam was able to use his mojo on most of the henchmen without much trouble, but not before the possessed Amelia pulled out a gun and plugged Jimmy in the scuffle. Dean was beside him at the time (they'd been making for the girl) and the guy collapsed right into him, Dean falling down as well and gaping in horror at the blood pouring from the other man's chest. A paralysis caused in no little part by the refusal of the logical side of his brain to quash the side screaming that - this was _his angel_ dying here! this was _Castiel_ bleeding in his arms.

Sam was still struggling with a particularly burly man sporting a black beard and what looked like a lumberjack uniform, so he couldn't help as the other demon paced over to Claire, gun raised.

Jimmy managed a hoarse 'no!' Claire opened her eyes and looked up, and then, to everyone's surprise, the gun flew from Amelia's hand and crashed against the far wall. Seconds later, the ropes holding Claire down burnt away and the kid stood up on the chair so she could reach a hand to her mother's forehead. A blinding golden light covered the woman for a moment, then she was falling to the floor with a gasp, just as Sam finished up with the other demon.

Claire stepped back down and turned to Jimmy, who was still bleeding profusely into Dean's lap.

"Castiel," the men said together.

The angel walked over to them and knelt down, small, childish fingers running through Jimmy's hair.

"You've served well, Jimmy," Castiel said. "It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now."

Dean's mouth opened, but he barely had time to acknowledge his relief at learning Castiel was okay, or voice a 'what the hell?' at the gibberish the angel had just finished spouting, before Jimmy was protesting.

"No... Claire," he hissed through gritted teeth, one hand pressing hard against the hole in his stomach in a futile attempt to stop the pain.

"She's with me now," Castiel responded, chillingly calm. "She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours."

Dean felt his jaw drop and left it there. Castiel wasn't seriously saying what he thought he was, was he... she... whatever? This girl was just a kid, Cas couldn't really be planning to use her as a vessel. And what about Jimmy? All Cas had to do was zip in there and heal him up fine and dandy, what was this crap about resting in the fields of the Lord? What the fuck was going on?

"Please, Castiel," Jimmy begged, oblivious to how his own life was slipping away and focused only on his daughter. "I need you to take me... take me... please..."

Castiel took a breath, and maybe it was because Claire was so young but Dean was sure he saw a touch of sympathy, just for second, in those deep blue eyes. The exact colour of her father's.

"I want you to understand," the angel continued. "You won't die. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it."

Jimmy used his free hand to grip the girl's arm, pulling himself up, and Dean shifted with him, moving his own hands to the guy's shoulders to try and keep him as comfortable as possible. He wanted to say something, argue for the other man, but it was tearing him up inside too much watching Jimmy, who wasn't even a hunter for god's sake, being so willing to sacrifice himself for his kid. The whole thing was just too _familiar_ and called up too many painful memories, leaving Dean's throat too dry and choked up to let him speak.

"It... it doesn't matter..." Jimmy answered, voice rising, turning desperate. Somewhere beyond them Sam helped up a shaky Amelia and they stepped over to watch, but the other three didn't notice. "You take me... Take me!"

Castiel looked up then, eyes falling straight into Dean's, and it took the hunter a while to figure out the look because he'd never seen it on the angel before. Because it wasn't strong, or certain, or commanding. It was confused and unsure. Castiel was _asking Dean_ what he should do.

Dean didn't hesitate. He nodded.

Castiel turned back to Jimmy.

"As you wish," she whispered, lifting her palms to either side of Jimmy's face. They just stared at each other for a second, then Jimmy's head tipped back under the touch and columns of white light spilled from his eyes and mouth.

A second later the light faded, Claire dropped back to her haunches, gasping, and Dean knew, from the way the body on top of him stiffened, that he was holding an angel in his arms instead of a man.

Amelia ran over then, pulling Claire to her, and the child fell, sobbing, against her shoulder.

For the next few seconds Cas just lay there, watching the two of them, and Dean could almost _feel_ him healing beneath his hands, power humming against his fingertips. Then the angel stood, abruptly, and started pacing away. Dean scrambled up after him.

"Cas, hold up," he called.

Castiel stopped and took a breath before turning back and Dean hated himself for a second when he did. Because, despite the blood still cooling on his jeans and the sobbing girl a few feet away, the first thing he felt when Cas met his gaze, back in the trench coat with rumpled black hair and Jimmy's slightly unshaven face, was _relief_. This was Castiel as he'd always known him. He had his angel back.

"Are you...?" Dean started, voice suddenly thick. "What happened?"

"I learnt my lesson while I was away, Dean," Castiel replied, Jimmy's light, almost boyish voice once again usurped by the angel's unique, rumbling one. "I serve Heaven, I don't serve Man. And I certainly don't serve you."

Cas held Dean's gaze a moment longer and his eyes weren't just emotionless, they were _cold_. Dean barely kept himself from reeling at the shock. And worse, it _hurt_. He'd been worried about the guy the last few days, damn it, he'd _cared_ , and now Cas was just brushing him off?

Except... Cas kept looking, eyes boring into the hunter's long after his put down should have been over. And Dean remembered how Claire's eyes had sought him out. An angel who served Heaven really shouldn't have been asking him for advice like that. Maybe there was more going on here than he knew...

Then Cas turned his back again and vanished a blink later.

Dean turned with a sigh and found Sam on the floor, trying to comfort the remaining members of the Novak family. From the way Amelia had started crying along with her daughter Dean figured it wasn't going well. Sam put a hand on her shoulder as she buried her head in Claire's hair and looked up at his brother, broken and helpless.

Dean just shook his head in response. These were good people and Cas had been trying to _help_ for fuck's sake, it wasn't fair they should have had to suffer such crap. And god knew how bad it had even been for Castiel upstairs (or maybe god _didn't know_ and that was the problem). Although, at least Cas had known he was putting himself in danger with his actions, this family had been dragged into the line of fire through no fault of their own. And they'd been so careful to keep the Novak name out of it these past few days too.

"How did they _know,_ Sam?" Dean muttered wearily.

Sam started to shrug, but then his eyes turned distant and calculating. A flash of realisation, followed quickly by fear and heavy wrinkles of uncertainty passed across his face and he looked away.

***

"I still don't see why we couldn't meet at a hotel," Ruby muttered as she followed Sam into Bobby's library. The lights were out, but the moonlight from the window provided more than enough illumination for the two of them to navigate by.

"I told you, it's safer here," Sam answered, turning to lean against one of the far (overstocked) bookshelves and face Ruby head on. "Bobby's got, like, a tone of wards and stuff around this place. Should stop people listening in..."

"Listening in?" Ruby repeated, stopping in the centre of the room to fold her arms across her chest. "What's going on, Sam? What is it you need to tell me that's important enough to mean sneaking into the supernatural Fort Knox while the others are out?"

Sam didn't answer straight away, just stared at her. Scrutinising. The gaze was so intense that eventually Ruby started to shift in discomfort, hands dropping to her sides.

"Sam?" she pressed.

"You remember that guy I told you about, Castiel's vessel?" he asked. Ruby nodded, a couple of lines snaking across her brow. "A bunch of demons attacked his family the other day. They almost didn't make it out alive."

Ruby's face softened, lips flattening out. A perfect expression of sympathy.

"That's tough," she responded. "Not exactly unexpected though. I mean, an angel's vessel? Someone was bound to try and get to him eventually."

Sam nodded.

"It's weird though... because no one knew his name. We were real careful to keep it quiet," he continued. "It's possible the demons figured it out themselves, of course, checked up on missing persons reports, but that would have taken time and... I dunno... it just seems..." He looked down for a second and swallowed. His eyes were sad when he looked up again. "It seems kinda strange that they should have attacked the day after I told you about the guy."

Ruby's eyebrows pointed down.

"What are you saying?" she snapped, instantly cold.

"I just... I need to know if you told anybody."

"You think I ratted this guy out?" Ruby shot back, voice rising. "After everything I've done for you Sam, you honestly think I would do something like that?"

Sam looked away, face clouding.

"I don't mean it like that I just... this is important." He eyes were shining when he turned back, almost pleading. "I just thought, maybe you were talking with some informants or something and let it slip without realising. Or maybe someone forced you..."

Ruby shook her head, breathing out incredulous laughter, dark hair moving across her shoulders in sharp, angry flicks.

"I suffered _Alistair_ for you and you think, what? Some two bit demon might have tricked this out of me?" She scrunched up her nose at the hunter in disgust. "I don't have to listen to this..."

She spun round and marched towards the door, Sam jerking forwards behind her and raising a hand.

"Ruby, wait!"

She didn't. But it didn't matter, because two paces from the door she was flung backwards anyway by an invisible force. She stared at the spot for a moment with wide eyes, then slowly raised her head. Chalked out on the ceiling above, white lines shining clearly in the moonlight, was a Devil's Trap. She turned back to Sam in disbelief.

"Look, just listen, okay?" he started.

"How dare you!" Ruby cut in.

"I don't care if you made a mistake, it happens to all of us," Sam pressed, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I just need to know -"

"I didn't make a mistake!" Ruby yelled. "Now, let. Me. Out!"

"Ruby, please..." Sam continued, verging on desperate now. "Just tell me the truth."

Ruby threw up her hands.

"I don't believe this. You know..." Her anger faded to a pout. "I was really starting to think we had something, Sam. Nothing serious. Not friendship or any Hallmark crap like that. But I thought maybe you _cared_." She paused long enough to shoot him a withering look. "I guess not."

Then she paced over to another shelf to Sam's right and leant back on it, folding her arms again and just glaring. Sam sighed, long and deep.

"So, you're really not gonna tell me?" he asked.

"There's nothing to tell," Ruby answered, each word bitter and clipped.

Both of them jumped when the lights came on.

"I hate to say I told you so, Sam, but..."

Ruby whirled round to find Dean framing the doorway behind, Bobby at his shoulder.

"Dean, wait," Sam pleaded. "What if she's telling the truth?"

"She's not telling the truth," Dean answered, eyes not leaving the demon as he stepped inside.

"You don't know -"

"Sam, she's feeding you her blood!" Dean shot back, gaze still locked with Ruby's, like he thought she might be planning to tackle his brother and start poisoning him there and then. He still hadn't quite shaken the taste of vomit that had risen up when Sam filled him in on the truth of his late night booty calls either. "She's got you so whipped you can't see straight. Now, we tried it your way like I promised, but she's not talking." He pulled Ruby's knife from his jeans and ran a thumb along the tip. "Now it's my turn."

Ruby's eyes trailed from the knife to Dean's stony expression. Her arms unfolded and she took an uneasy step to the side, away from the hunter.

"Sam?" she asked, a slight tremor creeping into her voice.

She glanced at him quickly, in time to see him grimace, eyes dark and conflicted. Her switch back to Dean was almost instantaneous, but still more than enough time for the hunter to rush forward and take her unawares. He slammed the handle of the knife, along with his fist, hard into the side of her head, knocking Ruby out cold.

When she woke up again she was still under the same Trap, only this time she was bound tightly to a chair, Dean looming over her, knife raised. She tugged a couple of times at the ropes about her wrists but they didn't budge.

"Didn't really think we'd make it that easy, did you?" Dean asked, shaking his head.

Ruby took a moment to scowl at him, then flicked her eyes around the room, assessing what else had changed. It didn't take her long to spot Sam and Bobby watching from the doorway.

"Sam," she started, voice shaking. "You're not... you're not really gonna let him do this?"

Sam's eyes flicked from Ruby to Dean and back again. He bit his lip, then sucked in a breath.

"Get him out of here Bobby," Dean snapped without turning round before his brother could say anything. "She's just gonna play him."

Bobby laid a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Come on, son," he said quietly, tugging Sam towards the door.

"No, it's just gonna be you and me, sweetheart," Dean murmured, resting his hands on either side of Ruby's chair and leaning down, forcing her to turn her head. "You and me, and everything Alistair taught me..."

Ruby scoffed.

"I've already been under Alistair, remember. You really think you can do better?"

Dean leant closer to whisper in her ear.

"Oh, I think so. See, Alistair didn't have a brother you were screwing over. And frankly? I'm hoping you're not gonna talk. Because now I know what you've been doing Sam, all I wanna hear is how loud I can make you scream."

"Just tell him, Ruby!" Sam pleaded from the doorway, shrugging Bobby off. "Just tell him it was an accident and we don't have to do this!"

"Sam, come on," Bobby tried again.

Dean ignored them and trailed the knife up Ruby's neck, stopping at her chin. His earlier words seemed to have got to her because the look she gave as her head tilted back wasn't anywhere near as defiant as it might have been.

"Was it, Ruby?" Dean pressed, voice turning dangerously soft. "Was it an accident? Or have you been playing us this whole time, huh? Which is it, are you just another manipulative demonic bitch, or are you an incompetent one?" He raised his eyebrows. "Must be tough trying to decide which of those is worse to fess up to."

Ruby pursed her lips and said nothing and Dean pressed the tip of the blade deeper into her skin. A single crimson peal of blood skated down the serrated edge.

"I dare you," Dean hissed. "I dare you to give me a reason to do this."

"Ruby!" Sam called again, but the others barely seemed to notice.

"Did you tip the demons off about Jimmy Novak?" Dean asked, eyes piercing into Ruby's in a way he clearly wished he was doing with a blade instead.

Ruby stared back at him for a long time, her own eyes flicking back and forth between his, breath turning shallow. Until eventually something about the expression must have broken her because she jerked her head back from the knife in defeat.

"Yeah," she spat. "Yeah, it was me. So what?"

Dean lowered the knife, breathing out harshly through his nose in what sounded like disappointment, while Sam stilled in his position halfway through the doorway, face turning slack with shock.

"Why?" he asked, stricken.

Ruby met his gaze over Dean's shoulder and her eyes creased at the corners. Sam felt a familiar tug inside him at the expression he'd once thought meant the girl - the _demon_ \- was feeling something benevolent towards him.

"I did it for you, Sam," she said. "Everything I've done has been for you."

"Endangering an innocent man and his family? That was supposed to help Sam?" Dean sneered, pushing away from the chair and looking down at Ruby, eyes narrow.

"You could never understand," she snapped back. "You've always been holding him back, denying his potential. You think I'm poisoning him, when you should be fucking thanking me! All this time I've been making him great! Getting him ready!"

"Ready for what?" Dean pressed at once, taking full advantage of the slip. "And don't give me that crap about wanting to kill Lilith. What are you really here for, huh, Ruby? What do you really want with my brother?"

Ruby's lips spread into a wide, vaguely hysterical grin.

"You have no idea, do you?" she sniggered. "Well fuck you. You're not getting any more from me, I don't care what you do."

She raised her head and spat at Dean's feet and the hunter's face turned an instant, vivid shade of red.

"Oh, you asked for it, bitch!" he growled, fingers gripping tighter round the knife still in his hand.

But just as he started forward Ruby shuddered in her chair, actually scrapping it back a little, and her eyes turned inky black. She sat rigid for a moment, then threw back her head and screamed, high-pitched and unrestrained. A scream of pure agony.

Dean startled back with a frown, then snapped his head round.

Sure enough, Sam had stepped through the door and raised a hand out in front of him, face tight with concentration, eyes fixed on the screaming girl. Bobby hovered uncertainly behind him and looked to Dean for guidance. But all Dean could do was shrug back, as much at a loss of what to do in the face of Sam's power as the older man.

Just when Dean was sure Ruby's throat was about to be ripped to shreds from overuse, Sam lowered his arm with a sigh and the demon's head dropped to her chest. She needed several heavy gasps before she was able to look up again, eyes wide and locking on Sam in complete and utter horror. With maybe a hint of betrayal in there too.

"Why are you here, Ruby?" Sam breathed, and from the way his voice cracked as he spoke it seemed the sense of betrayal swung both ways. "What do you want from me?"

"I want... to help you..." Ruby gasped.

"No." Sam shook his head. "No. This was never about me, was it? You're using me for something else. What is it?"

He started to raise his hand again and Ruby flinched back in her chair, panicked.

"We need you to kill Lilith!" she said quickly, hurrying on when Sam stretched his arm out, unimpressed by the answer. "No, you don't understand, that's how we planned it. Me, her and Azazel!" Sam lowered his arm slightly and shared a frown with his brother. "Sure she's had moments of doubt, but she's faithful, she's willing to make the sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Dean repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"Lilith's the final seal," Ruby explained in a rush. "She has to die. For Lucifer to rise again."

Sam let his hand drop back down and a stunned silence descended over the room, broken only by Ruby's continued heavy breathing. After a while her eyes turned to Sam again and she gazed up at him, beseeching.

"It has to be you, Sammy. You have to be the one who does it. Don't you see how special that makes you? And he'll be so grateful once he gets out. He'll thank you in ways you can't imagine. You'll be his right hand man." She swallowed hard. "We can still do it. Get me out of here and forget the others, you don't need them. Please, Sam."

Sam was too shocked to do anything but stare in response, mouth slightly open. And the worse thing wasn't the fact he'd been marked out by the fucking Devil all this time, it was the way Dean was looking at him - body tense, eyes already shining in preparation for tears. Like he wasn't sure what Sam might do. Like he truly believed he might pick Lucifer over his family.

That was what brought everything crashing home to Sam. The blood sucking, the mad lust for revenge against Lilith - what good was any of it if it meant Dean looking at him like that? No. He was done. Finally and irrevocably _done_. Felt disgusted, in fact, sick to the stomach in a very real and physical way that he'd taken it this far, that he'd actually believed in, _trusted_ , a demon. Shared a bed and blood and maybe even more with her. Almost let her trick him into setting Satan loose on the world.

He put a hand to his mouth to hold down the bile building inside, stumbled back a couple of steps, then turned and practically ran out the door.

Ruby called after him, but he ignored her. And when she was cut off mid-cry by the sound of a blade slicing through the air, he didn't flinch.

***

Sam was cross-legged on the floor with his back against the wire-framed bed when Dean stepped into the panic room two days later, a tuna roll and bottle of Bud in hand. The younger man's hair was slick with sweat, face pale save for the dark, red-tinged circles around his closed eyes and his hands just kind of flopped in his lap like he didn't even know they were there.

"Hey Sammy," Dean greeted, trying not to let the feeling of panic at seeing his little brother so broken and vulnerable sound in his voice.

Sam blinked, slowly, like he'd forgotten how, and rolled his head over to the door. The look he gave Dean was so weary, so _old_ , that it took the other man's breath away. Sam was supposed to be the young one, the _innocent_ one. He wasn't supposed to look like he'd been living a hundred years already and slaving through each of them.

Dean coughed and gave a weak smile.

"So, dinner?"

He waved the roll and the bottle in the air and Sam's lips twitched. Dean watched him closely, an absurd spark of hope warming his chest as he thought that if the other man just smiled back it'd be okay, they could pretend everything was normal again, go back to how things used to be.

But Sam didn't smile, instead he re-closed his eyes and dropped his head, too long, greasy hair covering his face.

"You... you shouldn't, Dean..." he stuttered. "You should just... leave me alone."

"No way," Dean answered at once, discarding the food and drink on one of the tables by the door and hurrying beside his brother. He knelt down and put a hand on the younger man's hunched over shoulder. "You don't have to do this by yourself."

Sam shook his head, brown locks swishing across his eyes, and refused to look up.

"This... this isn't..." he started and Dean realised from the tightness of his voice Sam was looking away because he was afraid of crying. " _I_ did this. To myself. It's not your problem."

"Hey," Dean said sharply, lifting a hand to Sam's chin and pushing his head up. Sam's eyes were bloodshot and full of anguish and, frankly, the sight scared the shit out of Dean, but he held them anyway. "You've _always_ been my problem," he continued, lips curving again. "Dumbass."

Sam blinked, then tugged his head back.

"Jerk," he coughed. But Dean saw the other man's lips twitch again and kept smiling.

He pulled away to give Sam more space and shifted so he was sitting beside him, legs outstretched, shoulders brushing the bed's yellowing comforter as he leant back.

"You... heard anything about Lilith?" Sam asked after a while.

Dean nodded, eyes fixing on one of the angel-blocking symbols on the wall opposite.

"Bobby got word she was in California a couple of days ago..." He paused to suck in his bottom lip. "He thinks she might have broken another seal there."

Sam nodded back, eyes tracing the same symbol. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then tried again.

"I've been thinking... she's not just gonna stop breaking seals because we know the truth about her plan..."

"Then let her," Dean cut in when Sam stopped for breath. "Let her break as many goddamn seals as she wants. As long as we don't waste her at the end what does it matter?"

"It _does_ though," Sam countered, sounding almost strong again for a moment, almost himself. "Remember Samhain? Or when Alistair tried to kill those Reapers? People can get hurt when a seal is broken, Dean, or worse."

Dean sighed and looked down. This was something he and Bobby hadn't been unaware of.

"What can we do, though?" he muttered. "We try and stop her, we just end up kicking off the apocalypse anyway. It's like a catch-22, or something."

Sam shook his head, spots of colour returning to his cheeks.

"No," he said. "You heard Ruby. Lilith has to be the _last_ seal that breaks for it to work. If we kill her before she gets that far we can still stop it."

Dean hummed out a soft, humourless laugh.

"Yeah, sure. That'll be a cakewalk. I mean, she's been such an easy hunt so far..."

The sarcasm seemed to echo around the walls, leaving a bitter silence in its wake, and Dean wished he hadn't said anything. But it wasn't long before Sam cut into the tension.

"I can do it," he said. "I can kill her."

Dean snapped his head up and found Sam's eyes on him, the rest of the younger man deadly still.

"Really?" Dean answered, words drenched in scepticism. "Cos right now you look like you couldn't take on a _kitten_ , forget a demon."

"You know what I mean," Sam pressed, but Dean spoke over him.

"No," he said. Not a question but an out and out refusal.

"But Dean -"

" _No_ , Sam," the older man repeated, harder this time. "You were the one who wanted this, remember?" He waved a hand around the room. "We're gonna see it through."

"The world could be at stake -"

" _You're_ at stake!" Dean had to take a breath to calm himself down before continuing. "You start that crap up again..." His brief flood of anger washed away, leaving his brow furrowed, eyes pleading. "Who knows what it'll do to you."

Sam turned just as desperate, expression a watered down but still recognisable version of the puppy dog look Dean had known and loved and been secretly incapable of resisting all their lives.

"It wouldn't be permanent," Sam argued. "Just long enough to kill her. After that..." He cut off and turned away, voice breaking. "After that it doesn't matter."

" _Doesn't matter?_ " Dean repeated, incredulous. "That's the _only_ thing that matters, damn it! Don't you care what it might do to you? What you might become?" Sam didn't answer so Dean gripped his shoulder again and pulled him round. "And what about me, huh?" Sam kept his head down and away from the other man's gaze. "Have you thought about what might happen to me when your little project's over? About what I... what I might have to do?"

Sam bit his lip.

"Yeah, I have," he said quietly. "That's... that's kind of the point."

Dean pulled back a little, face clouding.

"What do you mean?"

Sam closed his eyes, bottom lip shaking.

"I..." he started, voice high. "I can't do this, Dean. It's... it's too much. I just..." A series of tears began to escape his folded lashes. "It's not just about needing it. I... I see things." He blinked his eyes open and stared at the floor and Dean just watched, expression somewhere between fear and pity. "And they're _so real_ , I can't tell... I can't even be sure this is really you..."

"It's me, Sammy," Dean said on instinct, gripping his brother tighter. "And what are you talking about? _Of course_ you can fight this. You're stronger than a few drops of demon blood, you always have been."

But Sam shook his head, eyes flicking up to Dean's, and the older man watched a couple more fresh drops of water roll down his cheeks. Watched his little brother's eyes gloss over, coherence slipping away as the withdrawal consumed him.

"I see Alistair, sometimes," Sam said. "And... and mom, and... and it hurts, Dean. It hurts so much, and it's all my fault and I just wish it would stop. Please... please, just, give me enough to kill her and I can make it right, I can do something good for once. One last good thing, and then it'll be over, _please_..."

Dean's fear and embarrassment vanished under the younger man's pleas and he pulled the Sam close, nothing but love in his eyes as he wrapped his arms about Sam's shaking shoulders.

"No, Sam, I can't," he whispered. "I won't let you become a monster, I won't."

Sam began to sob in earnest, fingers curling weakly around the flaps of the older man's leather jacket, face buried in his chest.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." he choked.

Dean just held him tighter, chin resting against his brother's limp curls. He didn't know or care what Sam was apologising for, he'd already forgiven him a thousand times over, all that mattered was getting him through this in one piece.

"S'okay, Sam," Dean soothed, rubbing a hand up and down the other man's back. "We're gonna get through this. I promise. I'm gonna save you, just like dad told me to..."

He held on until Sam was too exhausted to cry anymore and then held on a bit longer until the younger man passed out in his arms, all the while trying not to think about the conclusion to that particular instruction of their father's.

***

Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he heard the familiar flap of wings behind him in the salvage yard later that evening.

Castiel didn't come to him but forced the hunter to spin round and seek him out, remaining a good seven or eight feet away and leaning against one of the looming pieces of scaffolding, trench coat billowing out around his waist. The angel looked so indifferent Dean opted for an unhappy medium and lashed out in anger.

"It's about time!" he growled, throat too raw to allow for the yell he'd have preferred. "I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for about two and half hours now."

"What do you want?" Castiel asked, moving slowly forward.

Dean had a whole list of questions about Sam on the tip of his tongue but as Cas stepped into the glare of the overhead light all of them slipped away unasked. Jimmy's skin looked pasty and feverish under the artificial glow with what appeared to be an extra layer of stubble coating the man's jaw. However cool the angel sounded, he clearly felt like shit if the usual pristine appearance he maintained was starting to chip away.

"I..." Dean started, suddenly at a loss. "It's been weeks, man. I was expecting you to drop by earlier. What... are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Castiel answered, tonelessly.

"Yeah?" Dean pressed, eyeing the angel up and down. "Cos we saw the state of that warehouse, it was a bomb site. They must have yanked you back pretty hard. What did they do to you up there?"

Castiel averted his eyes and Dean thought he might have seen him swallow, but perhaps it was the light.

"Nothing of import," he replied and Dean shook his head, disbelieving.

"Nothing of import?" he repeated softly. "Cas, don't gimme that." He reached out on impulse and laid a hand on the angel's arm, not even aware he was doing it until he saw Castiel turn his head to watch the fingers grip about the fabric. He didn't ask Dean to let go so the hunter continued. "You were meeting me in secret, and we saw the symbols on the wall, you tried to fight them off. I'm guessing the guys upstairs aren't too forgiving about that kind of thing. They must have..." He trailed off because the truth was he couldn't even _imagine_ what they must have done to Cas for his transgressions.

Cas took advantage of the pause and looked up, and this time Dean was close enough to see a watery shine across those once clear blue eyes.

"Dean," Cas said, voice deep but not as firm as Dean had come to expect, the words shaking a little. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Dean was speechless when he realised it was _fear_ making Castiel's eyes shine like they were, because of all the things he'd expected from the angel that was not one. He was an _angel_ after all. Of all creatures they were supposed to be fearless. Whatever happened in Heaven must have been _big_ if it was too much for even Cas to talk about and Dean just had to think back to Hell to remember what that felt like, having something so huge inside you it seemed just mentioning it had power enough to swallow you whole. He nodded and lifted his hand. Castiel turned and took a couple of steps away with a sigh of relief.

"Get to the reason you really called me," he said over his shoulder, all business again. "It's about Sam, right?"

Dean breathed out, hard, and watched the tendrils of vapour disappear into the cold night air. Of course it was about Sam. It was always about Sam.

"Can he do it?" he asked Castiel's back. "Kill Lilith, stop the apocalypse?"

Cas nodded and turned back.

"Possibly, yes," he answered. "But as you know, he'd have to take certain steps."

Dean bit his lip.

"Crank up the hell blood regiment."

"Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lilith would change your brother forever," Castiel continued, toneless again, although Dean liked to think the softness still showing in his eyes was sympathy. "Most likely he would become the next creature you would feel compelled to kill."

Dean managed to hold back the whimper that had been building in his throat since Cas started speaking again, but it was a close call. As he did, Castiel seemed to be suffering an internal struggle of his own, opening his mouth then closing it again, then opening it again, dark lines stacking up along his forehead.

"There's no reason this has to come to pass, Dean," he started eventually, moving forward again but stopping short of the intimate position he'd placed himself in before. "We believe it's you and not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it. To stand up and accept your role. You are the one who will stop it."

Dean stared at him long and hard, trying to find some kind of secret message in the words, anything that might link back to what Jimmy had told them, to the defiant angel Castiel had been beside that imaginary lake. But Jimmy's eyes were blank. Cas had shut himself off.

"We? Us?" Dean quoted. "So, what? You're just gonna toe the company line now, pretend Illinois never happened?" Cas didn't answer so Dean kept going. "And what am I supposed to stop exactly, huh? Lilith? When? Right now, tonight? Or when she's down to the final seal?"

That got a reaction. Not much, just a blink, but enough to tell Castiel was aware Dean knew the whole truth now, that he remembered the message he'd sent through Jimmy. The angel turned his head and gazed up at the pile of broken cars beside them.

"Whatever impression I may have given about future events..." Cas shook his head, losing track of what he was saying. "I was wrong. It would be better for everyone if you followed Heaven's lead."

"Better?" Dean breathed. "You're joking, right?"

Cas took a breath and turned back.

"Try to understand," he began, eyes climbing up to Dean's, but the gaze was a lukewarm version of his normal piercing ones at best. "What is to happen is long foretold. It is your -"

"Destiny?" Dean predicted, not without distain, and all at once he was livid. Burning up with anger that he and Sam should have ended up in such a crappy situation, been _manipulated_ into it, by Heaven and Hell alike. And sure, it wasn't Castiel's fault, not exactly, he'd even tried to help them, but just then it felt like the one angel Dean had thought he could count on, the one angel on his side, had just switched teams on them and decided to champion everything the hunter was opposed to. As far as Dean was concerned it was betrayal pure and simple and it stung like hell and he hated it. "Don't gimme that holy crap! Destiny, god's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor stupid son of a bitch. It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line." Castiel flinched - honest to god _flinched_ , body leaning back, shoulders tensing - but Dean was too worked up to notice. "You know what's real? People. Families. That's what's real." Cas jerked his head down, as though trying to physically shake the words from his mind and Dean scoffed at the move. "But what do you care about that? You were gonna let that poor sucker die -" He waved a hand up and down Cas' body to indicate Jimmy. "- take his kid and leave the mother heartbroken. You don't know the first thing about family or what it means to be human."

Castiel's head snapped up and somewhere beneath his anger Dean felt a flash of panic, because the angel was _pissed_ now, eyes blazing with beyond human light and reminding Dean why antagonising a celestial being was a bad idea.

"I know how you _suffer_ ," Castiel answered, voice no longer emotionless but hot and heavy, breath escaping hard and fast with the words. "I see it in Jimmy Novak and I see inside you. I see your guilt. Your anger. Confusion. In paradise all is forgiven. That is what I thought to bring Jimmy and you can know it too, Dean. Play your part as instructed and you'll be at peace. Even with Sam."

Call him crazy (and many did) but Dean didn't back down. He glared right back at those blazing eyes, locking the two of them in a staring contest until, to both their surprise, Castiel was the first to break. His righteous anger and certainty dissolved between one blink and the next and he turned his head to the side, shadows of confusion at Dean's persistence filling his gaze.

Dean took a breath through his nose to calm himself then ducked down to catch the angel's eye again. Once he had it he lifted back up, drawing Castiel with him until they were once more face-to-face.

"You can take your peace," Dean said, voice slow and calm. "And shove it up your lily white ass. Cos I'll take the pain, and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise!"

Castiel's face screwed up, like Dean's words were a physical pain. Coupled with the garish white light above and the already pale state of his skin it made him look awful and the sympathy Dean had felt when Cas first arrived started trickling back.

"Come on Cas, this is simple," he pressed, gentler this time. "There's a right and a wrong here and you know it."

"What would you have me do?" Cas asked tightly and Dean recognised the angel from the lakeside - wanting to help but scared to. The sight filled his heart with a level of warmth that surprised him.

"Help Sam," Dean answered at once. "Tell us how to stop Lilith. Now, before it's too late."

Cas looked up briefly, eyes scanning the darkness above.

"I do that," he said, breath laboured. "And we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed."

Dean just stared back at him.

"If there's anything worth dying for. This is it."

Cas stayed in his gaze a while longer and Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear the blood pumping in his ears, each beat begging the angel to agree. _Please, come on, please..._ But then Castiel slowly shook his head.

Dean let out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and backed away.

"I thought you were different, Cas, I really did." He'd meant to sound bitter but disappointment made the words softer and full of regret more than anything. "They must have really pulled a number on you up there..."

"Dean..." Cas breathed as the hunter turned his back. Dean shook his head.

"Go back to your cloud where it's safe," he said. "You're no good to me here. We're done." Dean thought he heard a soft gasp in response, but couldn't be sure.

When he looked back over his shoulder like he'd told himself he wasn't going to, Castiel was gone.

***

Just before dawn the next morning Bobby poured Dean a generous glass of whiskey, followed by an even larger one for himself, and the two of them sipped it over the desk in the older man's study while they pretended not to hear Sam screaming in the panic room downstairs.

Bobby sat at the chair and spent the next few minutes flicking half-heartedly through a stack of books piled on the wooden surface in front of him, while Dean paced around the rest of the room.

"How long's this gonna go on?" Dean asked eventually, placing his nigh on untouched drink on one of the few clear spaces the desk had to offer.

Bobby glanced up at him from under his hat.

"Here," he muttered, leaning forward and running a hand down the pile of books. "Let me look it up in my demon detox manual." He paused, then raised his hand for dramatic effect. "Oh wait. No one ever wrote one."

Dean sighed and looked down while Bobby threw back the rest of his whiskey in one go.

"No telling how long it'll take," the older man continued. "Hell, or if Sam'll even live through it..."

Dean was distracted from the cold, heavy weight in the pit of his stomach those words dredged up by the way every light in the house chose that moment to start flicking on and off. He and Bobby shared a frown and it was only then both of them realised Sam had been silent for the last ten minutes.

Bobby jumped to his feet and they ran for the door together. What they found when they entered the basement was the last thing either of them could have expected.

The door to the panic room was wide open and Sam knelt on the floor outside. An unconscious Castiel in his arms.

He looked up as the others raced down the stairs, panic in his eyes and blood on his lips. The left arm of Castiel's shirt and trench coat had been pulled back and Dean saw a red gash across his wrist. He stopped dead and stared at the scene in horror.

"I didn't... He asked me to, I swear..." Sam started, and even through his disgust Dean noticed his brother looked a thousand times better than when he'd last seen him. There was colour in his cheeks again and his eyes were bright and collected beneath their anguish. "He said it would help. I didn't know... I didn't know it would do this..."

Dean knelt down beside his brother and felt Castiel's neck. There was a strong pulse pumping inside, which was something at least.

"I didn't know it would hurt him, Dean," Sam pressed. "You have to believe me."

Dean looked up and met Sam's frantic gaze with a calmer one of his own. He lifted a hand and squeezed the younger man's shaking shoulder.

"It's okay Sammy, I believe you."

He glanced passed Sam to the open door and then back down to Castiel. That door had been bolted from the outside - he'd done it himself earlier that morning on Sam's insistence, to allay the younger man's fears of the violence he felt he might resort to as the withdrawal got worse. Castiel must have opened it and drawn Sam out, since the anti-angel charms prevented him from stepping inside.

"Cas, what have you done...?" Dean whispered.

***

Just over half an hour later, after they'd moved the unconscious man to the sofa upstairs, Jimmy woke up.

***

Sam tucked into his bacon cheeseburger with more relish than he'd ever shown the meal in his life, while Dean watched him from his red plastic seat on the opposite side of the diner's booth and almost smiled. If he didn't know the other man's hunger was prompted by a two week demon blood detox he would have found it funny as hell seeing Sam in raptures over food he usually liked to mock Dean about.

"Dude, you're not eating," Sam noted after a moment, nodding to Dean's untouched burger and fries.

Dean slid the plate over.

"Knock yourself out," he muttered. "You probably need it more than me right now, gotta build up your strength again."

Sam swallowed down another mouthful he'd taken while Dean was talking and lowered the food to his plate.

"You okay?" he asked, eyebrows knotting together in a look of concern it was almost painfully good to see on him again.

"Just thinking," Dean answered.

"Jimmy'll be fine," Sam said, trying to sound comforting. "Bobby's used that safe house we dropped him and his family at, like, a dozen times and he's got at least five hunters to agree to check in on them every so often."

Dean nodded and bent his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin in his hand and stare out the window.

"It's not Jimmy I'm worried about..."

Sam dropped his burger and pushed both plates away. He clasped his hands across the plastic in front of him and leant forward.

"You know they promised to call the second Cas drops back in."

"What if he doesn't, Sam?" Dean countered, resting both of his hands flat on the table and turning troubled eyes to his brother. "What if whatever he did... what if it killed him? He could have _died_ curing you, just because I asked him to."

Sam sucked in his lips, looking just as pained as Dean felt.

"It was his choice..." he tried, turning away. "Do you... do you regret asking?"

Dean scoffed, like he thought the question was too easy or something.

"Of course not," he answered. "It saved you, didn't it?" Sam's eyes traced the salt and pepper shakers in the centre of the table and he gave a soft smile. "I just wish he'd told me what he was doing... I wish I coulda thanked him..."

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, so lost in themselves they didn't notice at first that the two bodies in the booth had become three. It was the flick of red hair over a shoulder that tipped them off and both men jumped at Anna's presence beside Sam.

"Got some news," she whispered, glancing quickly round before bending forward across the table. She looked better than before - pinker skin, calmer hairstyle - and Dean figured the hunt for her must be wearing off as the angels focused greater attention on Lilith and the plan to free Lucifer.

"Spill," the older man instructed, hoping whatever she had to say might involve Castiel. He was disappointed.

"I know where Lilith is. Or, more specifically, where she's going to be two days from now. There's a seal in a church in Wichita she needs to break in person."

"How many are left?" Sam asked.

"I can't say exactly, there's only so much I can overhear without getting caught. But I know it's more than five."

Sam and Dean turned to each other, the exact same thought mirrored in their eyes. If they were gonna stop Lilith before she became the final seal this might be their last chance.

***

"You're sure you've got the knife?" Dean asked for the hundredth time, knuckles white against the steering wheel as he drove the Impala towards Wichita.

"Yes, Dean, I've got the knife," Sam answered, trying and failing to hide his exasperation.

"Okay, okay," Dean muttered back. "I'm just a little on edge, that's all."

"You think?"

They'd called Bobby as soon as Anna left and the elder hunter had promised to rustle up as many of his network of contacts as possible and tell them to haul ass down to St. Thomas' in Wichita, geared for a battle. But as comforting as it was to know they had backup they were still driving _towards_ the meanest, most dangerous fucking demon outside Alistair they'd ever known, with nothing but their wits and their weapons to help them now Sam's mojo was officially (thank the lord, or rather Castiel, angel of) out of action, and that was hardly leaving Dean feeling warm and fuzzy.

It seemed Sam wasn't as calm as he was trying to make out either because Dean heard him sigh harshly into enveloping silence (damn, Dean would be glad when all this was over, if for nothing else then the return of music to his car once the tension keeping it at bay was dispersed.)

"You really think we can do this?" Dean asked. Not that he was expecting an honest reply at this stage, they were doing it whether they could or not, he just wanted the comfort of his brother's voice, wanted to know that whatever happened they were in it together. Which made Sam's reply surprising in more ways than one.

"Yes. I have every confidence in the success of this plan."

"You - say what?" Dean blinked, shooting his brother an incredulous look before focusing back to the road. "Look, I know things are bad but I don't think switching on the formality is gonna help. I mean 'I have every confidence'? What's got into you, Sam? Jesus..."

He shook his head while Sam chuckled quietly beside him.

"No. Not him."

Dean's brow furrowed. There was something... weighty about that reply. Something unusually sombre yet... Dean turned his head to the other man and stared at him.

Sam's hazelnut eyes smiled back, but they seemed the wrong colour for the look somehow.

"Hello, Dean," he said, tilting his head in a very un-Sam-like and yet incredibly familiar way.

The Impala's tires screeched in protest as Dean skidded to a halt right in the centre of the road, cars behind angrily beeping their horns as they manoeuvred past.

***

The church was unremarkable as churches went. A proper Catholic-type deal, so it had the pointed spire and stained glass, but Dean had seen bigger, more impressive ones in his time. Heck, even Pastor Jim's had been fancier. From the brief glimpse the hunter got when the doors opened half an hour ago to let in some of the congregation for choir practice - read: demons for seal destruction - it looked like the place didn't even have a organ. Still, it was something about the ground it was built on that made the place special, so Cas said, so Dean figured poor architecture didn't matter.

"We should hurry," the angel in question prompted beside him from their stakeout position in the alleyway between a small bookshop and bank opposite.

Dean shook his head.

"This isn't gonna work."

Castiel frowned.

"I don't see why you would think so. The plan is a sound one."

Dean spun round and waved a hand at the angel. His brother's eyes blinked back at him.

" _That_ ," he stated. "That's exactly why. Sam doesn't talk like that. You... you don't even look like him!" He threw his hands up in frustration and Cas' frown deepened.

"But..." He looked down at himself. "I am him."

"No," Dean pressed. "No. Sam doesn't stand like that. He kinda... slouches. And he's... he's never that calm." He waved a hand at Castiel's benign expression. "He's always worrying about something. About what could go wrong, about the different ways people might get hurt, about how many stray kittens are getting stuck up trees in any given moment or something, I don't fucking know! I just know that this? This is wrong."

Castiel's - no, _Sam's_ \- eyes lit up and Dean recognised the shine, it had been the prelude to the angel's uncannily accurate 'you don't think you deserve to be saved' and left the hunter feeling apprehensive about what Cas thought he'd psychoanalysed this time.

"It disturbs you," he said, still too fucking calm. "This possession."

Dean tried to shrug it off but ended up making a choking sound that was more of a girlish agreement than a manly scoff. Because _yes_ , his little brother had an angel inside him and it was freaking him the fuck out!

"He is perfectly fine," Castiel continued. "And no harm will come to him while he is with me, I promise."

Dean bit his lip, then wrenched his eyes away. He could sense Castiel's comfort and he knew the angel was telling the truth but it was just... he was using _Sam_ to tell it and Dean couldn't shake the discomfort of that, couldn't help thinking that Sam had been used far too much this year already and this was wrong _wrong **wrong**_! And it didn't help that it came so soon after the younger man's detox. It had felt like losing the kid all over again watching him slip further and further into the pains of withdrawal, everything that made him Sam smothered under the screams and the tears and the fear. So seeing a Sam who wasn't Sam again made Dean restless, it made him afraid that if this kept up there'd be none of the _real_ Sam left to come back to him.

"I get that, Cas, I do," he muttered. "But... that doesn't change the fact that you trying to be my brother is a major hang up in this plan." He looked back, pushing his personal issues aside and trying to focus on the business side of things. If he gazed just past Sam - no, _Castiel's_ \- shoulder and avoided his face, he could almost pretend it wasn't his brother at all. "Lilith _knows_ us. She knows Sam. And she's gonna take one look at you, realise something's up, and high tail it outta there before we even get a look in."

Cas paused, thinking Dean's argument over.

"You could be right," he nodded. "I don't have the skill to deceive Lilith... Alright. I will wait until you have need of me."

Dean didn't get a chance to figure out what that meant because suddenly the other man was gasping hard and pitching forward into his arms.

"Woah! Jeeze!" Dean exclaimed, gripping Sam's elbows. "Cas? What's going on?"

The other man raised his head and blinked up at him.

"Dean?"

The voice was shaky, younger than before, and the relief Dean felt at hearing it was indescribable.

"Sam?"

Sam nodded, still breathing heavily as he pushed himself upright. He swayed a little but pulled out of Dean's hold regardless, lifting his palms in a stilling gesture to show Dean he was alright and could handle himself.

"Are you -?"

"I'm okay," Sam insisted. "I'm okay. I'm fine." He took a couple more breaths. "And I know what's happening. I... I heard everything, I know the plan."

Dean nodded, relief dropping visibly away into hard lines across his skin as he remembered they still had work to do.

"Right... so, hold on. Cas just ditched you?"

"No," Sam breathed, something like awe spilling out with the word and lighting his eyes. "No, he's still here. I can -" He waved a hand in circles beside his head. "I can, kinda, _feel_ him."

He broke into a patented, hundred watt, Sam Winchester grin and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"And you're happy about this because...?"

Sam focused on his brother properly for the first time since getting back and beamed at him.

"He's an angel, Dean. An _angel_. In _me_." He put a hand to his chest. "After everything I've done. It's amazing. And it's nothing like Meg was. It's... it's kind of exhilarating."

The speech was such a familiar blend of excitement and dorkishness Dean couldn't prevent a small smile back. Yup, his brother was still in there alright.

"Wow, okay, that's..." His brow furrowed as he thought the words over. "That's pretty gay, dude," he concluded.

Sam just _looked_ at him and Dean raised his hands in apology.

"Fine. There's an angel inside you and you're happy. Nothing homoerotic there," he shrugged. "In any case, you think you can step down from cloud nine long enough to get this done?"

Sam's eyes grew harder.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Let's do this." *

***

They were caught practically the second they entered the graveyard round the back. Turned out a couple of demons had been posted as sentries there. They even high-fived each other when they recognised their prize and spent the whole time dragging the brothers inside debating how Lilith would reward them for the catch.

Lilith was, predictably, by the alter, completing some finishing touches to a disturbing set up of bone, candle and what smelt like rotting meat on the top of it. She was back in her 'comely dental hygienist' form and the grin she gave when she turned and saw them was far more attractive than Dean was comfortable with.

There were several rows of demons lining the pews, each with a lit candle in their hand (the purpose of which Dean couldn't even guess at), and all of them turned to leer at the two Winchesters as they were manhandled up the aisle and dumped unceremoniously at Lilith's feet.

The demon laughed.

"You're just in time," she told them. "The party's just getting started."

The two demons who'd caught the brothers stood, simpering, behind their fallen forms and Lilith nodded to them.

"Good work," she praised and Dean could almost feel the smugness radiating out of them as a physical force. "Here," Lilith continued, turning briefly to the alter. When she returned she held a golden bowl and chalice in her hands. She dipped the cup into the bowl and Dean caught a glimpse of a thick, red liquid slopping inside. She held the bowl out to one demon and the chalice to the other. "You may be the first to drink. Have the honour of beginning the ritual."

The demons murmured their thanks (several thousand times), each took a sip from the cup, then headed away to the others waiting in the pews - presumably to offer them more of the same.

Meanwhile, Lilith crouched down in front of Sam and Dean. She tutted sweetly and shook her head.

"It was very silly of you to come here you know." She ran a hand through Dean's hair and the hunter jerked away with a scowl.

"You won't get away with this!" Sam yelled and Dean had to bite down hard on his cheek to prevent himself rolling his eyes at the cliché. _Jeeze, Sam, try and be a little **more** obvious would you?_

Fortunately, it seemed Lilith's grasp of pop culture was limited and instead of finding the taunt suspicious she fell hook, line and sinker for the distraction and leant towards the younger man. A perfectly manicured hand reached out and grasped him by the chin, lifting his face to hers.

"Sammy," she hummed. "You had your chance to stop this and you blew it. I don't make the same offer twice, not for anyone." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "Now be a good boy and keep quiet while I destroy the world, okay?"

There was a short pause before Sam replied, accompanied by a crackling sound, like a static charge.

"No."

Lilith just had time to gasp before Sam gripped her tight about the wrist and yanked her hand away. She jumped up and tried to pull back but Sam stood with her, grabbing her other arm and forcing her against the alter. Some of the candles and bone fell to the floor with a clatter and the demons in the pews tensed, readying to jump to their leader's aid.

That was when Dean scrambled up and yelled at the top of his voice,

"Now Bobby!"

The church doors burst open at the words and Bobby ran inside, a veritable army of hunters behind him, all brandishing shotguns and flasks of holy water, and the hall descended into chaos.

The air filled with the smoke of gunfire and the screams of demons burning under sanctified rain. Three or four made it to the alter despite the assault and Dean was forced to use one of the candelabras under the pulpit to try and bat them away.

"Bobby!" he yelled again and was answered by a flare of light from one of the demons. Its body sunk lifelessly to the ground a moment later and the bearded hunter stood behind, Ruby's knife raised in his hand and dripping with blood.

His expression was hard to make out under the shade of his cap and Dean wondered how the hell the man could see enough to fight when the church was dark enough already. Then the older man dispatched the other three demons with cold efficiency and no signs of being in any way impaired and Dean decided to stop with the stupid questions when they were in the middle of a fucking war, an imaginary Bobby slapping him round the head and calling him an 'idjit' for good measure.

"Here," the real Bobby nodded, throwing the knife (which he'd been keeping safe so it wouldn't be confiscated when the others were caught) back to the younger man.

Dean caught it neatly in his right hand and turned back to the alter, leaving Bobby to whip a sawn-off from some implausible part of his jacket and spin back to the fray.

Lilith was still struggling under Sam, who she'd clearly realised wasn't Sam at all anymore, head tipping back, mouth opening and closing. Dean saw a whiff of black smoke escape her lips every now and then, but Cas was muttering something over her in Latin and cranked up the volume whenever this happened, drawing the smoke back in.

Dean took a step forward, and the ground started shaking beneath him. A blinding white light burst through the church windows, sending all the other demons cowering to the ground, and Dean was forced to raise a hand above his eyes to keep Cas and Lilith in sight.

"Cas, what's going on?" he shouted over the din.

"Archangels!" Castiel screamed back, yanking Lilith from the alter and spinning her round. "They're trying to stop us," he continued, staring wide-eyed at the hunter over the demon's shoulder. "Dean! It has to be now, I can't hold her much longer!"

Dean raised the knife, face a mask of determination, and tried not to think about how soft and feminine the neck and shoulders before him seemed to be. Forced himself to remember, as he pressed the blade down, that this woman was already dead (they'd discovered as much when Lilith bailed out of her that time Chuck had his personal archangel scare her away) and that it was the hellish creature inside he was killing.

Lilith didn't make a sound as she died, didn't even try to scream. One second she was tensing up under the blow, the next she was flopping boneless between the two men. Gone. Without a fanfare and with barely anyone noticing. Dean felt a grim satisfaction about that as he and Cas let go together and left her to fall limply to the floor.

When Dean looked up, the other man was smiling at him. Not Sam's smile, wide and uncontrolled like the licked greeting of a puppy, but more restrained in its happiness, the curve of lips short and collected and all Castiel. And Dean smiled back, for that one moment forgetting his brother and seeing only the angel - the one who'd pulled him from hell, the one who'd finally cured Sam of Azazel's curse and risked the wrath of Heaven to help them. They'd made a good team, in the end, hadn't they?

Then the victory bubble burst and the sounds of wailing demons and approaching archangels came flooding back.

"Cas, get out of here!" Dean yelled.

Cas nodded and took a breath and all at once Dean was filled with a wild and irrational panic.

"Wait, wait!" he called, waving a hand. Cas raised an eyebrow at him in question, a single one in a way that Sam had never managed, despite extensive practice as a kid, and the sight almost had Dean in hysterics. "You'll come back, right? I mean... I'll see you again?"

Castiel smiled, broader this time.

"You'll see me again," he promised. "I swear it."

Then Sam was dropping to his knees with a gasp and the blinding light was condensing into a physical shape in the corner of the room.

It didn't matter, though.

Screw the archangels and the mass of demons in the hall behind, Dean could take them all on, and _win_ too.

Because he had his brother back.

And they'd stopped the apocalypse.

And while Heaven was still a bunch of dicks for the most part, it turned out there _was_ one angel watching over them, after all...

> Thou art a symbol and a sign  
>  To Mortals of their fate and force;  
>  Like thee, Man is in part divine,  
>  A troubled stream from a pure source;  
>  [...] And a firm will, and a deep sense,  
>  Which even in torture can descry  
>  Its own concenter'd recompense,  
>  Triumphant where it dares defy,  
>  And making Death a Victory.  
>  **~ Prometheus, Lord Byron.**

**~ fin ~**

**Author's Note:**

> credit to the end of this scene (where Cas releases Sam for the first time) is wholly attributed to [](https://chookybakker.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://chookybakker.livejournal.com/)**chookybakker** , who realised the potential for LOLs I'd been too dim-witted blind to see - you are AWESOME hon! :D


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